The Rise of Giovanni
by Zarine Storm
Summary: Tragedy strikes Giovanni when a Pokemon attacks and kills someone dear to him, changing his life completely. Holding a grudge against Pokemon due to the attack, he finds his way into Professor Oak's lab for help learning about the creatures so he can get his revenge.
1. Grab the Tauros by the Horns

Hooves thudded against the packed dirt path, a bull-like creature lowering its angry head, showing off its curving grey horns threateningly. Three more grey bumps - what could easily have been more horn buds - poked out of the thick bronze fur of the animal. And yet, this "bull" wasn't really an animal. It snorted, flicking its three grey-tufted tails, before thrashing wildly a mere ten meters from the family.

Frightened for her son, the woman stepped in front of him, crouching to prepare to jump out of the way. "Giovanni, I need you to run and hide. Just keep running to Fuschia City, I'll catch up with you. Rush home," she urged, her voice a low whisper.

"What is it?" he asked, fists balling up on the back of his mother's carrot-colored sweater.

"It's a Pokemon, and it's angry. Who knows what it can do, but you need to run and hide."

Obedient out of love, Giovanni ran fast, his tight white polo constricting his arms and chest, but his legs managed to move more easily in his looser shorts. He was glad now that he wore his sneakers on the walk to the city instead of his nicer dress shoes, as beaten as they were. Already tired, though realizing the bull was still in sight, he hobbled to the bushes, crawling a few more meters until he found a vantage point where he could see both his mom and the bull-thing.

Giovanni's heart sank as he saw the bull finally notice his mother, who was slowly backing away. The beast raised its head, surrounded by incredibly shaggy brown mane, letting out an unearthly noise as it stood its ground, angrily lashing its whip-like tails as it stared down the boy's mother, who suddenly kicked aside the suitcase, where it rolled to a stop on the edge of the tree line. If needed, she could run and leave it behind, returning later to get it when the beast left.

It thundered forward, lowering its head once again, but this time, it was running with a purpose, not just thrashing about on the path. Someone on the other side of it stopped in horror for a moment, running away fro the scene the next, shouting warnings to anyone down the route.

His mom turned as fast as she could, running down the route, though it was gaining on her quickly.

Just as she started veering to the side, it reached her. Down it ducked, scooping her up on its head and throwing her meters ahead. Saying she screamed wouldn't describe enough the noise leaving her. It wasn't like the shrill screams in movie shows or TV shows, when you knew that they were either going to be just fine or that they didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. He knew his mother didn't have a great job, but in this instant, he truly understood that what might be happening to her could completely change at least his world. No more scoldings or being grounded, or having to eat food he didn't like. No more walks, no more end-of-the-week treats for doing well in school or doing a good deed, hot meals, comforting hugs, hands to wipe away tears.

The sound of impact alone was gut-wrenching, A loud sound that simultaneously so fast and yet lasted much longer than he thought it would, and it seemingly echoed around him and in his ears and i his memory. He wanted to tear his eyes away, though it felt as if he was locked in place, eyes glued to the horrific scene. "I have to know. I have to understand everything," he whispered to himself.

As she flew through the air, he could see a deep gash running from her right hip to shoulder, gored from a horn of the beast. Her limbs outstretched limply as she gained height, turned parallel to the ground, and began to sink in a slight dive again. The second thud was just as bad as the first, though he knew that the whole thing was already set in motion the instant she couldn't escape. Face first, arms and chest, and the rest of her followed. The brand new sweater, though it was a tad cheap, was now covered in dust and dirt and blood and large rips. The slacks, too, were in similar condition. One black pump had flown off when she. But what happened next was far worse than he imagined.

Little Giovanni had expected that one headbutt to be it, for the bull to be satisfied after that and leave. But it kept charging. It trampled over her, crushing whatever it stepped on, her body bouncing a little from the impact. Trampled, ripped, and gored. It came back, trampling her again, this time staying in place as it bucked and kicked. It was like watching a film that just constantly replayed the same scene over, and over, and over again, and not knowing when it might stop.

Just as the bull hopped up again, a strange purple halo followed the outline of the bull, keeping it hovering in the air. Now shocked, the fury in its eyes changed from rage to fear and pain, kicking and whipping its tails trying to free itself. It twisted its head, staring at whatever could be causing the painful levitation.

At first, it looked nothing more than a newborn, hairless mouse. But it was much larger than that, at least by mouse standards. A little shorter than half a meter, its carnation pink body was accompanied by a tail much longer than itself, and a head that looked almost oversized in proportion. The tail wavered around, tipped with a long oval thicker than the string-like tail. Small, wedgelike ears twitched above large blue eyes that couldn't have looked friendlier. It's tiny forepaws clung close to its body, and its much larger hind legs dangled comfortably below it. As cute and harmless as it looked, he hoped someone knew what it was, for it certainly was powerful enough to stop the rampaging pokemon in its tracks.

The pink pokemon calmly flinged the bull-pokemon away, letting it roll across the path roughly. As soon as it could, the bull-pokemon scrambled to its feet and galloped away. This new pink creature - it had to be a pokemon, what else could it be? - lowered itself over Giovanni's mother, cocking its head to the side. It began flickering, which Giovanni began to wonder if he imagined if it was really happening or not. Smoke surrounded the mysterious pokemon, fumes seemingly leaving its body somehow, only for it to collapse in on itself into a tiny point, only to expand out again. But now, a brown-haired woman, her hair pulled into a neat bun, exposing her widow's peak. Warm black eyes looked out from a familiar face. Carrot-colored sweater, black slacks and one pump, covered Giovanni's mother, as ragged as they were after the attack. But it couldn't have been his mother, for she was lying on the ground, dead. Or at least he thought she was. He couldn't see a body anymore. But he had to be sure. He was preparing himself to leave the bushes, but to his surprise, the figure started walking straight towards him. He shrank back, scared but curious. He gasped when a pair of creamy, pale olive hands parted the bushes, golden wedding band on her left ring finger, right down to the engravement along the side of the band.

"M-mom?" the little boy stuttered, unsure of what just happened, though he could remember it as vividly as if it happened again and again in front of him each time he'd think about it. The image of his mom smiled, just as his mom smiled, opening her arms to embrace him. And Giovanni wanted to stand up and approach her and walk into her hug, enjoy her warmth and comfort. Some part of him wanted to believe that it wasn't her, because miracles don't happen. But one just did, and he internally berated himself internally for being afraid. She was wounded, but she was alive and well enough.

He cringed when she reached for him, remembering the terrible wounds, but he didn't resist when she pulled him out of the bush, brushing off the stray leaves clinging to him. Holding him by the hand, his mother skirted past the gouged patch of the road where she was attacked, hoof prints and skid marks taking up much of the center of the path.. Giovanni's mother pulled the suitcase out of the brush, dusting off the twigs, and pulled it along in the other hand. Down the route they went, toward Fuchsia City, to home.

They passed through the streets comfortably, street by street, house by house, until they finally stopped outside one. She let go of the suitcase, leaving it on the porch before pulling the little boy into a practiced, familiar hug. He knew he was at his home, as identical as it was to the rest of the buildings, himself and his mother safe from the dangers of pokemon.

Giovanni's mother unlocked the door to the tight stairwell, picking up the suitcase, smiling at him. He raced up the stairs ahead of her, excited to be home but still tired. She arrived on their landing soon after he did, pushing their way in the dimly lit hallway, no longer any windows present. He walked slightly ahead of her, wondering how well she was to walk so far despite having apparently been healed by the pink mouse. She was shuffling across the grimy tile floor, but didn't seem to be limping, so he kept going until he stood in front of their apartment door.

He let go of her hand, wrapping his thick fingers around the door handle as he dipped into his pockets with his other hand. Fishing out a key, he pushed it in, twisting and jiggling the handle until it opened.

Inside, Giovanni kicked off his shoes, and darted toward his bedroom. A few steps away from his door, he spun on his heels and ran back. She was slumped in a kitchen chair, shoulders hunched and head facing the floor, her hair a tangled mess around her face. He approached slowly, concerned, and wrapped his arms around his mother. Slowly, she raised one of her own arms to place it across his back, returning the hug rather weakly.

"Goodnight, mom," he said, his body shaking as he remembered what happened earlier. She could have been dead right now. If that were the case, he wasn't sure what he might do. "Please call your doctor, I want to be sure you're okay."

Returning to his room, Giovanni stripped down, dumping the clothes in the hamper before pulling on an old pair of shorts and a T-shirt over his head. Climbing under the covers, he turned his head to listen for his mom walking through the apartment, turning on the TV, anything.

But she stayed silent.


	2. When in Rome

Mew watched the little boy turn the corner, unsure of what he was doing. The steel and concrete structure around them was perplexing - nothing about it was natural, and yet the little human seemed perfectly comfortable. Mew dipped into the boy - Giovanni's - mind, pulling images from his thoughts to understand what he was saying. Mom - the human female that had been attacked by the tauros in the route - was a woman with hair as brown as the bull's mane, a square jaw and rather common facial features. She didn't stand out - she looked like almost every other human female Mew encountered, though it had difficulty at first identifying sexes. Now, Mew knew to look for long mane and udders.

"Goodnight" - Mew dipped into Giovanni's mind, finding images of starry skies and strange four-legged wooden frames topped with thick sacks of plant fiber, garnished with more woven plant fiber and animal wool, though it had a faint suspicion that it could have come from a pokemon. The image of a sleeping Giovanni, laying down in the bed.

"Call? Doc-tor?" Mew shakily said, the higher pitched female voice crackled from unfamiliar use. It turned, seeing the crescent-shaped device on the wall, recognizing it from the boy's mental image, and an adult human male in some sort of white lab coat and curving, metal antlers attached to a rubber and steel pendulum. It wasn't sure what was what, or if those words were things or actions.

Mew glanced around the room, as it remembered the boy calling it an apartment. Not a nest, or burrow, or some other word usually used. It got the distinct feeling that the entire structure didn't belong to them, just this little section of connected . . . Rooms, it it recognized the word.

It wasn't sure how long it was going to keep up the charade, for the boy would find out eventually that his mother had died. The little pup needed some sort of comfort, though Mew was unfamiliar with many human behaviors. It knew they fed, slept, and reproduced like anything else, lived in semi-inorganic structures and walked the same paths all the time. They seemed to like routine, or they simply knew no other way. This boy would have lost that routine completely.

But what was everything around it? It recognized some things it had seen before: food, clothing, which the humans always wore, with no thicker skin or fur or feathers to cover themselves. They were vulnerable without it. But there were also things it recognised but had no name for, only seen in glossy photos on paper blowing about on the wind. Plush-looking pieces of furniture made to be sat upon, or sometimes lie upon them. Flat plastic objects with four legs, hip-high on humans. A woven basket full of fruit sat atop the large white plastic surface. It could feel its stomach grumbling, so it carefully reached for the bowl, plucking out a pecha berry.

Leaning in for a bite, it instantly realized that whatever it was holding was not the sweet, fuzzy fruit at all. Mew leaned in to sniff at the rest of the fruit, finding they all carried the same bland scent and firm yet malleable texture. It put back the berry-that-wasn't-a-berry, determined to look for some other kind of food.

Wooden blocks lined a wall of one room - rows of them attached to the ceiling and upper wall, the rest on the floor, each with doors the size of the blocks. Mew opened one, finding ceramic disks in one, simplistic green vines painted across the white material. More ceramics sat beside them, those these formed depressions when the edges of these disks rose higher than the rest. And further yet, were similar dishes whose edges rose even higher and were far thinner than the rest.

None of it looked edible.

One of the blocks carried a steel depression on top of it, an arm reaching out from the far edge by the wall and hung over the center, a lever beside it. Mew pushed the lever up with its hand, and water spilled out of the arm. Thrilled, it stuck its head under the tap to drink, though it found the angle uncomfortable. It would be easier to do in its true form, but Mew didn't want to risk the little boy see it wasn't his mother.

Speaking of which, Mew wanted to check up on him. The low heels clicked as Mew walked down the hall, suitcase rolling behind it. Leaning on the wall, Mew peered in and saw the sleeping boy, splayed across the fiber sack, apparently peaceful after the day's events.

But Mew knew children, pokemon or human, were perceptive. Giovanni would notice something off about his "mother" soon if Mew didn't start learning how humans behaved more than it observed. Movement in a new form was always tricky, but with how often Mew transformed, it adapted quickly enough.

_Television. TV._ Mew flitted over to the large black box, metal rods sticking out like mock insect antennae. Nudging a tiny round button on the side, the blank grey glass sprang to life with shapes and movement and sound.

A young child sprang out of bed when a strange round face hopped up, its round shiny ears dinging loudly as its hands pointed to what the humans said meant "six." The screen followed him to the kitchen, where a woman stood beside a box covered with metal rings on top, flames dancing in the centers of them. Tendrils of flame spilled around the edges of a wide, flat disk with slightly raised edges. A pair of bright yellow, pupilless eyes stared out from the whitening clear slime in the pan, becoming lumpy as it cooked. The woman - the mother? - moved the fried eggs to a ceramic plate, sliding it front of the waiting little boy.

He picked up the metal stick on the side of the plate, four-pronged on one end, scooping up the wiggling white substance, the yellow bubble breaking and leaking across the flat disk.

"When you're done, put your plate and utensils in the sink, I'll wash them," the mother said. "What are you going to do, now that it's summer?"

"I'm going to go see my friends at the park," the little boy on the glass pane replied, mouth full of yellow and white goo.

Mew leaned forward, watching the show carefully. "So this is what humans do." And there Mew stayed, for much of the night, fiddling with buttons and knobs on the side of the brown metal and plastic box. Periodically it stood up, trying to mimic motions. Moving to the "re-fridge-er-a-tor," Mew slowly sounded out, it found the carton of eggs, and gently cracked one into a disk with edges that curved up. "Bowl," Mew repeated aloud. "_Bowl." _

The shell caved in as it tapped against the bowl, fragments parting to make way for the clear waves and yellow eye that spilled in. Clumsily, Mew raised and dropped the stainless steel fork, dragging it back and forth in circular motions as fast as it could through the fluid.

Briefly letting go of the bowl, Mew turned a knob on the stove, igniting the dancing azure flame in the center of the ring, setting what the large woman clothed in white, topped with a tall cylindrical hat, called a frying pan. Dumping the yellow mixture into the pan, it sizzled furiously at first, before the heat solidified the slime into a round yellow disk, which cleanly slid onto a plate. Mew rolled its fingers together other the warm omlette, the shreds of soft yellow-white falling to it, melting. "Shredded cheese" the person in the box referred to it as.

Outside, the sun's rays bled across the sky, casting the world in a coral-amber glow. Giovanni slipped out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he smiled at the plate of breakfast food on the kitchen table. "Good morning, mom!" he sleepily greeted. _Good morning, Giovanni!_ Mew heard in the little boy's head in a high alto - his mother.

"Good morning, son!" Mew replied cheerily, mimicking the woman's voice. The last word was an odd mix of syllables - it'd have to practice that sound later. "Did you sleep well?" Mew slid the plate across the counter in front of the little boy.

Giovanni nodded sleepily, eyelids half-open. He snatched the silver, four-pronged piece of metal off the table, cutting apart the disk of jiggling slime, amber yolk bleeding out across the plate. "Yeah, I had a dream about this weird pink pokemon. A cat. Or a mouse. But its eyes were huge and blue and it made no noise, just that it watched me and then left."

Mew jerked away from the hot stove, another plate of eggs in hand. "Goodness, I'm not sure if something like that exists, dear."

"But mom, we saw it yesterday. It made you better!" he argued, pounding his fists on the table. His voice increased in pitch to a whine. "After that pokemon hit you!"

"_There was no other pokemon there,"_ Mew gently cooed with its mind, louder to try and affirm that it was right. Its eyes began to reflect out an azure-tinged light.

"I -," started Giovanni, but he closed his mouth, his entire body sagging in resignation to his mother's disbelief.

"_Why don't you go outside and play after you've finished your breakfast?"_ Mew suggested before taking a bite of the warm eggs. It tasted better than it smelled, though the texture of the fried whites, soft and bumpy, versus the liquidy, slimey yolk that seemed to cling to whatever it touched was something it'd have to get used to.

Immediately, the little boy perked up, eyes displaying the same blue tinge as Mew's. He shoveled the rest of his eggs into his mouth, gulped thirstily at a glass of orange juice, and sprang to his feet. "Thanks, mom, I'll change and go out now!"

The moment Giovanni dashed out the front door, the blue-painted wood slamming shut behind him, Mew exhaled a sigh of relief. It transformed back into its true form, and teleported away.


	3. Memory Lane

Giovanni took slow, careful steps through the front door, letting it click shut behind him. Ambling out of the apartment building, he shuffled a few blocks down and entered the gated playground, shuffling towards the closest thing: a metal horse painted in whites and reds and golds, perched on a fat, rusting spring. His fingers slid over the warming metal and flaking paint, clumsily pulling himself up, mind still in a daze. He leaned forward and backward rhythmically until it began to bounce back and forth with little effort.

A high pitched squeal and flashing lights pierced the morning silence, jolting Giovanni awake. Completely startled, the metal horse bucked him off onto the mulch. But he still caught sight of the blue and red flashing lights atop the black and white police cruisers racing down the street, turning a corner ahead. A sterile white ambulance followed closely, letting off an equally startling noise.

He couldn't help but stare, and kept staring long after they left. Giovanni shuddered, picking himself up and stepped away from the fire-maned horse, though he still felt compelled to stay and play. He took a deep breath, and darted toward the jungle gym, climbing over a tire and leaping at the monkey bars. He gripped them tightly, and swung forward as fast as he could.

Missing the last bar, he fell to the ground, catching himself before he could fall over. When he looked up, yet another police cruiser sped by.

* * *

"Dad? Daddy? Daddy!" a three year old Giovanni cried. Blue and red lights spun, casting everything in an mix of danger red and soothing blue. His dad's small white car squatted in front of him, the front crushed like aluminum foil where its side had met the front of a small delivery truck. Its back was opened, cardboard boxes spilling out, packages of dry noodles falling out in front of their house. The shattered windshields and side windows of both cars were scattered around the crash site, shards glittering in mock celebration of the event.

The truck driver was slumped in his seat, groaning as a police officer came to help him onto a nearby gurney, while a small team sawed off the roof of Giovanni's dad's car. His dad was just returning from work in the afternoon, and Giovanni had just walked back from the playground with his mother. What the emergency response team removed from the wrecked car barely resembled the man who had died. It barely resembled a person at all.

* * *

Giovanni shook his head violently, pushing the memory away. He stood up, turned back to the monkey bars, and grabbed the first one, letting his body swing forward, making it easier to grab the next one. This time, he didn't miss the last one, and he landed much more easily, though his feet still scattered much of the mulch underfoot. He didn't spend much time standing there, worried that lack of motion would let more bad memories into his head, or that his strange grogginess would return.

He jogged up to the wooden jungle gym, easily covering a few times the size of the apartment complex in which he lived. The first thing he saw were stairs constructed of rubber-wrapped chains, and he carefully put one foot on the first one, slowly speeding up as he managed to make his stride wider. Giovanni bounded across the weathered wood, onto the tire bridge. One foot landed too far back - he fell backward, his leg plunging down towards the mulch while the other bent around the side of the tire. His arms wrapped around the tire behind him when his head made impact, bouncing against the thick rubber.

Giovanni wasn't sure how to pull himself up - his head and arms were lower than the rest of his body, and he was supporting himself on his arms and one leg. Attempting to sit up would let him fall through, pushing himself up with his arms and leg did little other than raise himself out a bit. This time, he opted for rolling to the side, pulling his dangling leg towards his abdomen as he did. From here, he was able to get up and continue on his little adventure in the park. He came to a small tower, cobwebs suspended from the roof gently blowing in the wind.

He glanced around, enjoying the slightly elevated view. He looked at the sky - it was no longer orange-tinged, and the sun was high in the sky. How long had he been playing? He looked around again. Other children were now at the playground, their guardians watching from afar. But Giovanni's mother was nowhere to be seen.

He scanned the street, making sure she wasn't walking toward the park to come and bring him home or somewhere else. Still nothing. He sighed - he wished she was here. His stomach was growling loudly now, and his throat parched. Dipping his hands into his pockets, he found enough pokedollars for a bit of food and drink. There was a convenience store not far from the park. He could see it just outside the gate and on the other side of the street, and few cars were driving down the road.

Carefully, he climbed down a rope to reach the ground again, and darted toward the gate, trying not to bowl over any smaller children. Giovanni crossed easily, and entered the door, making sure it closed behind him before continuing. The cashier greeted him warmly, asking if there was something specific he was looking for.

"Juice and a riceball," Giovanni replied.

"Any particular flavors?" she asked.

"Orange juice and a fried mackerel riceball, please."

"Right over there," she replied, pointing to a nearby refrigerator. He collected what he wanted and paid, returning to the park to eat. He tore open the triangular rice ball's wrapper, taking a big bite. Giovanni wolfed it down as he waited for his mother to come get him, for he didn't have an apartment key on his own. He waited a short while before he opened the bottle of juice. by the time he finished it, he decided he shouldn't wait any longer. A neighbor living in the apartment complex could let him in, and he could knock on the door. Tossing the food wrapper and bottle in the trash, he exited the park and headed home.

Just as he started the last few blocks, he could see lights flashing from behind him, accompanied by the whine of sirens. _Ignore it. Just ignore it._ But the police cars passed him, and turned left into the apartment complex's parking lot.

Giovanni refused to let himself remember the accidents: both his father's death, and his mother's injuries from the bull-like pokemon. He hoped she had gone to the doctor's to have her wounds checked, but he sped up his pace. There, the cop cars sat close to the entrance, which they left wide opened. The officers were stopped inside, talking.

"Do you have any new information on where she lives? A room number or floor?" one said, just before Giovanni turned up the steps.

"No, but there are photos of a little boy. Some of our men are at the nearby park asking if anyone recognizes him, and I still have a few of the photos. We can ask around."

"Wait let me see . . . That's it! The little boy just ran up the steps! Follow him!" they shouted, lunging at the closing door.

Giovanni quickly arrived at his apartment door, pounded on the door before trying the handle. He fell inside.

"Mom? Mom! Are you here? Are you okay?" he called out. He heard the doors to the stairs open.

"Try here, I'll check the next one," one of the police officers commanded.

There she stood, in front of a window. She turned around, her smile changing to a look of shock. She was there for only an instant, hands in the air close to her face as she backed up, away from her son and the coming police officers.

Dark brown hair melted with with skin and cloth, mixing, warping, shrinking. All together, she became a pink mass floating in the air. A wide head, complete with large eyes and triangular ears. A pink tail, longer than its body. Large feet and small hands. Pale blue eyes.

The mysterious pokemon.

In an instant, it seemingly winked out of existence, just in time for the police officer to enter. "Boy, is your name Giovanni?"

He turned, nodding slowly.

"You need to come with me."

"Why?"

"Boy, I'm sure you've been wondering where your mother is."

"She -," Giovanni stopped before he said any more.

"She's dead."


	4. A Nudge in the Right Direction

Giovanni refused to let himself cry. He'd cried yesterday after she'd been attacked and when he did believe she was dead, and now, that fear was confirmed to be true. Whatever hovered over her after she was killed gave him a false hope of normalcy. Or, it had given him another day to live normally, but it still impersonated his mother.

"I'm sorry, Giovanni. But we need you to pack up some of your things. The rest can come later."

He nodded, and hustled to his bedroom. He grabbed his backpack and a second duffle bag from under his bed, grabbing clothes from his dresser and stuffing them in any way they'd fit. He collected his toothbrush and toothpaste, a brightly colored toy lizard, a picture frame of one of the few family photos he had. Soap and shampoo followed, along with his favorite pillow and blanket.

The police officer picked up the bags for him. "Is there anything else you'd like to do or get before we leave?"

Once again, Giovanni merely nodded, his head lowered and mouth quivering slightly. He turned back to enter his parents' bedroom. It sat perfectly untouched, exactly how his mom always kept it tidy - the pillows fluffed, the bed neatly folded, makeup and lotions organized on the vanity, and all the drawers and doors closed. Light spilled in through the cheap beige curtains, the same shade as the carpet but lighter than the duvet. He knew he wanted one last memory of it. Giovanni could hear a memory of her humming as she made the bed. He turned around, glancing behind him one last time before stepping out the door before the police officer, who slid the locks into place.

The officer deposited Giovanni's belongings in the trunk. "I'm sorry for your loss. I know how . . . generic that is, but I am here to help you."

Giovanni muttered, "Thank you."

Minutes of awkward silence passed before the officer spoke again, "Is there anyone you want us to contact? Any family or friends? A father, aunts or uncles?"

"My dad died a few years ago in a car accident," Giovanni answered, his voice beginning to crack. "As far as I know, neither of my parents had any siblings. I guess you can look into that. I don't know of any grandparents either."

The man moved a hand off the padded steering wheel, punching in buttons on some sort of radio. "Kaede here. How may I help you, Daisuke?"

"Kaede, I need you to look up any information you can find on the victim's family and relatives."

"Got it, sir," the younger voice replied, his high tenor firm and stern. The device clicked again, turning off.

"Almost there."

Giovanni blinked, confused. He cocked his head to the side, asking, "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to a children's shelter for you to stay until we help you figure out what you want to do." Officer Daisuke added, "You'll have a bed, warm meals, and a roof over your head. It's safe, and we'll keep in touch."

"Thank you," Giovanni replied, remembering his mom taught him to be polite. The car stopped rather abruptly along the side of a road. The officer opened the trunk, and lugged the bags up to the door.

"This is it, Giovanni. I'll help you check in, and I'll let you head to dinner and unpack. Who knows how long you'll be here, but you might as well get comfortable, right?"

This time, Giovanni didn't answer. The secretary at the counter peered over the nose of her dull brown, cat's eye glasses. "This is Giovanni? The little boy you called in about earlier?"

Daisuke nodded. "Yes, I have some of his things here."

"Great," her high pitched whine squeaked. "Giovanni, I need you to sign this clipboard with the date and time here, and after that, I need you to fill out these forms with what you know, okay?"

The little boy accepted the pen and clipboard, first signing himself into the shelter before filling out the form. It asked for basic information: Name, birth date, gender. He cringed when he reached "Why are you staying here?" He scanned the page, finding that the officer had already given much of the information, including that his mother had died. The rest of the questions on the packet of paper dealt with allergies, medication, likes and dislikes.

Quickly, he wrote out the shortest possible answers he could, before passing it back to the secretary, who looked it over to make sure he didn't miss anything. "Good, good," she drawled lazily. "Giovanni, let me take you to the dining area. They're having dinner now, and I can show you to your room if you come back to my desk later. Officer Daisuke, I'll let you get back to the station."

The policeman cleared his throat. "May I take his things to his room first, Chie?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course, of course, after I show him the dining room." In spite of her voice, she turned out to be quite dedicated to the job. She offered Giovanni her hand, and as soon as he took it, she gently led him through a heavy door into a long hallway. He could hear the chatter of several people - some sounded younger than him, others sounded like teenagers. Giovanni swore he could hear a baby cooing somewhere.

"Were you close to your mother, sweetie?" Chie asked, her voice so sweet it made the hallway feel sticky with honey.

"Yeah, especially since my dad died," Giovanni replied, surprised at how okay he was with answering. "He died when I was six, around this time of year. A truck driver missed a stop sign and hit him. I remember seeing it."

"Oh dear," the secretary said, dipping down to hug him. "Do you know what happened to your mom?"

"I'm not sure, exactly, but I think she was attacked by a pokemon."

"How did you know that?"

Giovanni paused. "Well . . . We were walking down route 15 back to Fuschia City. All of a sudden, we saw some sort of bull that had a lot of shaggy hair and three tails, and my mom told me it was a pokemon and to run." He took another pause.

"It's okay, you can take your time telling me."

"I ran into some bushes, and I saw attack her. I was scared, she wasn't moving, and I thought she was dead. But then there was this big pink mouse - I guess it was a pokemon - hovering over her. It was there for a moment, then it was gone, and she was walking around. She brought me home, she was there in the morning, but when I came home . . . Well, I saw her there again for a second, until she disappeared and the pink pokemon came back. And that's when the police officers found me."

"Oh my, I know pokemon are strange and powerful, but I don't know if they can do that." GIovanni could feel the doubt in Chie's words, and she noticed the change in him instantly. "But you never know! New discoveries are being made every day. There is a professor researching pokemon in Pallet Town, I think. If you really want to check, you might be able to contact him somehow, though he's a busy man."

Giovanni smiled, "I'd like that."

* * *

Daisuke hung up the phone, running a hand through his dark hair. "That was Chie. Apparently the boy saw his mother die, and he's saying his mom was there for most of the next day, until we got there. Said what he saw became a pokemon."

"Poor kid, he must have been hallucinating," Kaede responded, frowning. "Should we . . . say something to him about that?"

"No. It's his way of coping, I'm sure he'll realize that later. But Chie did say he's expressing interest in learning more about pokemon. She told him about Professor Oak in Pallet Town."

"It looks like we found something for him to do next," Kaede said, turning to his desk. Oak has been looking for kids interested in pokemon for a while now, ones who'll be living on their own while they help him with his research. Well, aside from living with him. Rooms at the lab, food taken care of, a small allowance - sounds almost too good to be true."

Daisuke looked away from the phone at last. "Great. Let's make a copy of that flier for Chie so she can decide when to give it to him. Let's go look at the body again."

The morgue wasn't far - in fact, the woman's body was still on the table. "If he really did see his mom die, realizing that really did happen explains why he was so quiet on the way to the shelter," Daisuke spoke after several minutes of silence as he examined the dent in the back of the cadaver's skull, clots of earth still tangled in the black hair. "Chie told me he wouldn't stay quiet for long there. He likes talking to the adults, not so much other kids his age."

"Isn't that strange?" Kaede questioned. "I mean, he could be looking for a parental substitute in Chie or the other workers. But nobody at the park saw him playing with other children. And him to already seem to be okay? I mean, he may have had suspicions that his mom really was dead, but for apparently being so close to her, that seems very unusual. I - damn!" the young cop exclaimed as he parted the skirt and blouse, revealing severe bruising along the broken hip. A deep horizontal gash cut across the center of her back, likely where the horn met her flesh. "So this is the wounds from when that pokemon launched her. So, what we know from Giovanni's description is that it looked like a shaggy bull with three tails?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it." Daisuke explained, "We need to write a description of that and post warnings throughout the city and on that route around where the accident was. People need to know so they can avoid it."

"But without a proper name and full description, how useful is that really?"

"Yet another reason why we're sending Giovanni off to Professor Oak."


	5. The Road, Alone

Giovanni was bursting with excitement in the plastic train seat. He'd never been far from Fuschia City before, and now he was being sent off to a Pokemon professor. From the little he heard about Professor Oak, he was compiling a detailed list of pokemon: their physical descriptions, official names, where they lived, what they could do. All the information was kept in detailed journals, complete with rough sketches of the Pokemon. If he could get permission to look through the journals, he'd be able to find not only the pokemon that killed his mother, which would help out the citizens of Fuchsia City, but hopefully the one that he believed impersonated her for a day, as well.

He was a tad nervous, riding the train for the first time, but it was simple enough for never having used it before. Giovanni was more accustomed to walking or running. The train wasn't too crowded, or at least this car wasn't. Accidentally locking eyes with an older gentleman, he bowed, and looked out the window, scooting into the seat by the window, where his suitcase took up the floor space. It wasn't his assigned seat, but the train wasn't going to stop again until it reached Celadon City, a great distance away. He wasn't sure if there were any other stops between Fuschia and Viridian, where he was supposed to get off, but he knew he'd be on the train for a long time. Thankfully, Chie and given him money for food and drink while the police officers arranged the train ticket to the closest city to Pallet Town. He was told he'd have to walk the rest of the way.

When the land fell away to the sea, Giovanni couldn't help but stare in wonder. He'd been to the shore before, but he'd never seen the bay from the high tracks on route 18. Fishing vessels cut across the otherworldly turquoise waves that darkened to a sparkling cerulean. If he'd known the world outside Fuschia City was so beautiful, he'd have begged to venture out more long ago.

He scarfed down a salted rice ball as he stared out the window. Lost in thought, the sudden disappearance of the sea surrounding him startled him back to reality. He could see the road below was full of people on bikes - both cyclists and bikers, coasting down the road. Cycling road, as he overheard a young passenger exclaim excitedly. Ignoring the teen girl's high pitched chirps about how fun bike riding is, Giovanni slumped back into his seat.

* * *

It was lunchtime when they reached the Celadon City station. A trolley rolled through the cars shortly after the train departed again, offering food and beverage to the passengers, two of which now sat next to Giovanni. The young couple let him keep the window seat, and even helped him lift his luggage into the overhead compartment.

"Just let us know if you need any help getting it down," the man happily offered. "What stop are you heading to, anyway?"

"Viridian City. I'm supposed to head to Pallet Town from there."

"Wow, so far!" the woman exclaimed with surprise. "Are you visiting someone?"

"Professor Oak. He's going to teach me about Pokemon."

"Oh? That's unusual, most children I know who want to learn about Pokemon go to schools," she responded flippantly.

"So you want to go on an adventure?" the man laughed.

"My parents . . . are dead," he uttered. "And I want to help with research. Find new things.," Giovanni lied, wanting the now-rude couple to stop talking to him.

They immediately stopped smiling, their eyes widening sharply. "Ah. I'm sorry for your loss," the man said. "We're going to Cerulean City. Some friends of ours living in Saffron City - the next stop - are going to join us. I hope you have a safe trip."

Saffron came quickly, and the train car filled completely. New passengers bumped elbows and seats as they squeezed through, the chatter increasing far beyond what Giovanni had expected. The couple next to him raised their voices significantly just to greet the new group of people moving through the crush of passengers towards the seats on the other side of the aisle. The tight space and increasing heat on the train made him grow more tired than he already was.

Giovanni gave a sigh of relief when they finally reached Cerulean. The train took about as much time to get there as it did from Celadon to Saffron, but the constant garbled voices yammering on about work, children, vacations, and more made it last for several times over.

The next thing Giovanni knew, was the conductor announcing their arrival at Pewter. He roused just enough to look out the window, catching a glimpse of a city he wouldn't later be able to describe. His stomach kept him awake, having missed the previous trolley. Much to his surprise, the next rolled up pretty quickly.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you're awake now," the lady cooed. "You seem a bit young for traveling by yourself, so I wanted to come see if you were awake and if you needed anything. There's not much left, but there's still some sushi and mineral water, if you'd like that."

He smiled sheepishly as his stomach answered for him. "It said, 'Yes, thank you.'"

She passed him a plastic bottle of water and a small food parcel before disappearing behind a sliding door, leaving him to enjoy the view of the aptly-named Viridian Forest, for the leaves were exactly that shade of green. He was amazed by the number of people he saw trekking through the mazelike woods, many appearing to be lost, or doubling back again and again. It seemed to be a winding path, with circles within circles. Giovanni was glad it wasn't necessary for him to travel through it, especially as dusk approached. He could see strange, caterpillar and larvae-like things - he wasn't sure if they were or not, for he'd only read descriptions of what they generally looked like - followed by what he assumed to be the next stage in their life cycles. Again, he only guessed at the pod-shaped shells that matched the color of the foliage, some like the leaves, others like the bark. He wasn't even certain about the terminology of what they were: cocoons or chrysalises.

It seemed he already had several unrelated questions for the Pokemon professor.

The forest began to thin out, and a mix of buildings appeared, all constructed of green-slated roofs and russet-colored wood. He could feel the train beginning to slow. This couldn't be the city, could it? Or was this a stop he missed hearing of when he fell asleep? Giovanni expected modern skyscrapers, tightly clustered together. Crowds bustling along the sidewalks, restaurants and shops and small street stands everywhere. This place looked little more than a rural town, though he gave it a little credit, for the buildings seemed to be interspersed with trees that they matched chromatically. He couldn't be sure where a tree ended and where the buildings began, and that many buildings could easily be hiding behind the numerous trees. Or so he hoped, as it still didn't fit his vision of a city, but he doubted it was a city in name only.

"Last stop: Viridian City," bellowed an unseen man. Train workers unlocked the car doors, sliding them open to allow passengers off. The few that remained on board wandered to check that everyone was clearing the train, and to see if anyone needed help.

Without hesitation, a porter approached and popped open the overhead compartment above Giovanni. "Follow me, child. I hope you had a nice trip," he recited, his brow furrowing. "Do you need any further direction on where to go?"

"Yes, sir, I need to get to Pallet Town," Giovanni explained urgently. "I'm supposed to go to Professor Oak's laboratory."

The porter pointed a finger down one of the few paved roads, which was actually wider than Giovanni expected. "If you follow that road and keep going in that direction for a few minutes, you'll find Pallet Town. It's just a short walk out of the city, and the lab looks different from all the other buildings. It's a tiny town, if you can even call it that. You'll notice the lab as soon as you get there. Might even be the only thing there, right now."

Giovanni thanked the man, and started walking with sleepy steps. The man wasn't kidding - it didn't take long for him to leave the city, and as soon as he did, he was certain he could see a stone building above the tree tops. He picked up his pace a bit, settling into a steady jog. Giovanni savored the fresh air and the gentle wind, until he found himself walking on air. He opened his palms, throwing them in front of his face. But even that couldn't protect him from the the tall grass, which reached into his mouth and clothes. A couple of birds flew up out of the air, shrieking with their shrill voices.

"Oww," he groaned. He staggered to his feet, brushing off loose leaf litter and clots of earth from his clothes and fingers. Giovanni turned around, glancing behind him to see what he fell over. His jaw dropped when his eyes met the rocky ledge, at least three feet high and barely visible in the low light. His suitcase sat just beyond the edge, barely close enough to pull towards him. Examining it closely, Giovanni let loose a sigh of relief to find that neither it nor him had any scratches or rips, hoping that meant whatever was inside was in equal condition.

This time, he didn't try speeding down route 1. He carefully looked around, wishing he brought a flashlight with him, and tried to avoid any more tumbles. Giovanni was glad when he found a short set of stairs that took him down a few of the larger ledges. Smiling as he reached the clearing, he raced up to the brick building with an orange-yellow glow emanating from within. Giovanni took a deep breath. He wasn't sure why, as he never felt the tickle of nervousness or fear. After staring at the door for a few minutes, he raised one fist and knocked. He could hear the scrape of a chair against a hard floor, and heavy footsteps that grew louder as whoever it was came closer.

The door swung in, letting light spill out around the sharply-dressed man, brown hair neatly cropped and a sterile white lab coat settled over his stocky form. "Hello! You must be Giovanni. My name is Professor Samuel Oak. Come in, come in, I'll show you where you'll be staying!" he greeted heartily.


	6. Pokenotes

Giovanni awoke on a mattress on the floor, complete with a pillow and blanket and nothing else. He looked around, finding that the room he was in could fit little more than that mattress and a small, pale brown dresser up against the far wall. His suitcase sat in an otherwise unoccupied corner. He couldn't remember coming in this building - whether it was the lab or something else, he was uncertain - but it had the distinct smell of cleaning solution, metal, and something spicy Giovanni couldn't put a name to. The overall feel of the room: repurposed custodial closet.

He also found that he was not wearing the simple khaki shorts and orange polo he dressed in the previous day, as they were now draped across the open edge of a drawer. Very familiar toiletries sat out on top of the suitcase, the explanation as to why he didn't feel the grime from yesterday's fall. But he did feel the bruises on his legs and torso. The little boy stripped out of the plain white pyjamas and clothed himself in what he felt was both practical and professional enough for what he might be doing that day.

The steady rapping on the thick, windowless door signaled for him to come out. Giovanni turned the lever, peeking out to see the professor - already prepared for the day ahead - smiling down at him. "Good morning, Giovanni!" he greeted warmly and full of energy, waiting for an answer.

"Good morning, Professor," he answered sleepily.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little sore, but aside from that, okay."

"Are you hungry at all? Would you like to talk over breakfast?"

"Yes," Giovanni answered in a low voice. "May I have a few minutes to wake up?"

The professor laughed. "Of course, of course. I'm sure you're still weary from your trip here yesterday. If you can't remember from last night, the bathroom is just on the other end of the wall here."

_And everything that's happened the last few days,_ Giovanni thought to himself. He wasn't sure if Oak knew the full story or not, but he remembered handing him a list similar to what Chie asked him to fill out.

Padding down to the bathroom, Giovanni brushed his teeth and washed his face with cold water. He was happy to find that his towel, toothbrush and a few other of his toiletries did indeed make it to the bathroom, complete with a few showers. It looked quite a bit like a school's locker room.

By the time Giovanni left the bathroom, Professor Oak was rummaging through the fridge, lifting out different jars of pickled vegetables and a large container of leftover rice. Not waiting to be commanded to, Giovanni turned to the cabinets, searching for plates and utensils.

"Far left cabinet and drawer," the professor called out. "Just two places, it's just the two of us here." As he set the table, the professor began talking again. "So, I'd like you to tell me a little about yourself. And not just what you had on paper from the shelter. I already know any needs you have."

"Do you know how I got to the shelter?"

"I know that you weren't there for very long, but that's about it. But there is a question I want you to answer before anything else: Why do you want to be here?"

The little boy paused, his brow furrowed. The answer he had might not please the professor, though he felt his interest in Pokemon was genuine. "I want to learn more about Pokemon."

"Good, good, but why?"

"They're dangerous and I want to understand them."

Oak pondered what he was going to say next. "Yes, they can be quite dangerous, and gaining understanding is good. May I ask why you see them as dangerous?"

"I wound up in the shelter because a Pokemon killed my mother when we were walking home a couple of days ago," Giovanni explained, hoping the professor would still help him. "But another thing that I think was a Pokemon came by and appeared to heal my mom, until the police came to our home a day later saying my mom was dead. What I thought was my mom was standing in the kitchen, but then she vanished and the Pokemon I saw before was where she stood before it disappeared again."

"I'm sorry for your loss." The professor paused, writing the boy's words on a small notepad. "Was this the same pokemon that killed your mother?" he asked urgently while he scrawled down notes.

"No. There were two: one that killed my mother and the other that I saw twice."

"Can you describe them? Ah, better yet, I can show you the notes on Pokemon I compiled over the years. Will you recognise them if you see drawings? My sketches aren't terrible."

"Yes, I'll never forget them," Giovanni declared wistfully. "I could never forget them."

"After breakfast, I can take you into my lab so you can search through my files on individual species of Pokemon. You might like to read the other entries, too, while you're at it. I'll be around if you have any questions."

Giovanni paused, confused. "But professor, don't you need me to help you with your work?"

"Of course I do. But I need you to familiarize yourself a little with them first. For one, how would you define a Pokemon?"

The new student paused, thinking of what he knew. "Pokemon are creatures that resemble animals, but have special abilities and powers."

"Correct. But there's more to it than that. People and Pokemon have lived side by side for several years. Pokemon have emotion, they are companions to us as much as we are to them, and both have benefited from the other. Just last week, I saw some construction workers who had some Machop that were helping them flatten out a plot of land not far from here so they could begin building on it sometime soon."

"So they are also tools?" Giovanni asked, eyes eager.

"No more than people are tools to each other. I believe the key is that humans and Pokemons can be friends, and both grow stronger from it. That bond is what I like to focus on."

"How can I help with that, Professor?"

"First of all, you can read my notes on Pokemon. I know you must think they are terrible things, with what they did to you, but I think you might warm up to them if you read a little more about them."

* * *

The next thing Giovanni knew, he was sitting at a large table with several plastic, overstuffed binders, with the professor commanding him to just sit and read. And so he did, paging through the laminated notes. Many of the pages not only had colored sketches, but photographs, too. He was surprised at how accurate the drawings were, and briefly wondered if Professor Oak once desired to pursue art.

The first pages were dedicated to what looked more like a garden plant. A large bulb, apple green and swollen, sat atop the body of what Giovanni had no idea how to describe, other than having four short legs and a wide face. He couldn't come up with a single animal it resembled, but it looked like it belonged in a vegetable stand. The next one appeared to be budding. The leaves separated, now full of leaflets that made it resemble a fern, revealing a rosy bud, not much smaller than the bulb of the previous pokemon. The next page's pokemon just seemed to build upon the last, becoming a large plant in full bloom, with a fatter body.

Next was something that looked drastically different from the previous Pokemon. It was bright orange, and apparently carried a flame on its tail. Some sort of lizard-like creature that lacked scales. The name it was given was "Charmander."

"Oh! Like a salamander, but 'char' because of the fire!" Giovanni blurted out. He smiled sheepishly when the professor looked up and stared, although a smile spread beneath his nose as he worked. The following two resembled this Charmander, growing larger and more intense in color, and finally one that displayed a great pair of wings, stretched far above its head. "These three must be related in some way," Giovanni muttered to himself. "Same with the first three. It's like looking at babies and then an adult." He flipped back, to the end of the first entry. Evolution . . . Evolving? Bulbasaur to Ivysaur? The concept felt very foreign, and there it stayed on the pages, unexplained.

The next section featured a blue, bipedal turtle with a curly tail, and other similar-looking creatures that apparently were much larger. The next looked less cute and peaceful, its skin a darker shade, its face decorated with an angry, toothy smile and wing-like ear tufts matching its bushy tail. A tail that looked quite a bit than the previous turtle's, aside from it apparently having become three in one. Giovanni questioned if they were actually related or not. Turning to the next pages, he found a much larger turtle, with an even tougher expression and stubbier limbs. From its back, the shell opened up to reveal two cannons over each shoulder, or something comparable to them.

"This Pokemon fires water from the cannons on its back to attack. It is also known to bite, and can retreat inside its shell to protect itself or to attack," he read aloud. Turning to the next page, he searched for a photo for some form of height comparison. Indeed, there was. Professor Oak beside one, standing just a couple inches taller than it. The Pokemon - Blastoise, Giovanni read - was quite bulky and looked powerful. But the one in the photo appeared to be happy, or at least perfectly calm. Clearly, it had to be good-tempered enough that the professor was still here, but he could have been lucky.

Continuing through the several pages, he found the shaggy brown bull. It's darker, thicker mane, the three tails, and it's angry expression all matched so closely to what Giovanni had seen, that he wondered if it was exactly the same one. Tauros, he read its name. After finding it, he flipped through more and more pages, taking quick glimpses of the sketches and photographs, hoping to see the pink mouse. He saw a yellow mouse, its tail jagged, but it was far too small, and aside from resembling a mouse, had no other similarities to what he searched for. He sped through the pages, letting them slide out from between his index finger and thumb as if he were watching for a silly sketch movement in the corners of the pages. Giovanni went back yet again, a bit slower this time. And again, making sure to look at the back of the pages.

It wasn't in the journal. He pulled the next binder out, flipping through it. The next followed, and the next. He barely noticed when the Professor put a plate with a plain rice ball on the table in front of him. At last, he closed the last binder and looked up at Professor Oak, who was pouring some brown cylinders half the length of walnuts from a bag into some bowls.

"So, Giovanni. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"The pokemon that killed my mom, it was a tauros. But the other thing I saw wasn't in here."

"Giovanni, what you saw most likely was a pokemon. I can't imagine it being anything else. Will you describe it to me, so we can get a rough sketch? More and more pokemon are being discovered every day, you know. It's only a matter of time before we find this one."


End file.
